


Westerosi Irony

by The_Admiral (orphan_account)



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-10-11 16:57:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10469808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/The_Admiral
Summary: “Another King’s brother rose up for the first Daenerys as well.”A short story looking at a different Westeros, with a resolute Targaryen king, his heartbroken brother and the fairest princess in the realm.





	

**I**

 

“Brother, please,” Jon pleaded before the man he had once loved fully as both a brother and his closest friend. “I beg of you, do not do this to me or to her,”

 

To his side, Daenerys was sobbing gently into his shoulder, yet the King’s lilac eyes were still resolute and his face, akin to those of an ancient sculpture of the dragonlords of old appeared to be carved out of cold marble.

 

“Jon, Daenerys has a duty to the realm, and so do you. Father’s reign brought peace and stability to a broken realm, but the Baratheons and Tullys still have not forgiven us for the death of Robert Baratheon, and Hoster Tully on the Trident,”

 

“I love her, Aegon,” Jon heard his voice crack as he uttered out. “Please.”

 

He saw uncertainty flash through Aegon’s otherwise neutral eyes briefly, but the emotion disappeared in a matter of seconds, returning to the steely, resolved look.

 

“I’m sorry, Jon”

 

**II**

 

They made love madly that night, for they both knew it would soon be the last time, and they would be separated from one another. As Dany lay next to him, he could feel her tears upon the bare skin of his shoulders, rolling slowly down to his chest. He felt his own ones run like rivulets down his cheeks, and although it was pitch black in his chambers, both knew the other’s emotions, but neither said a word to one another.

 

**III**

 

When the day came for Daenerys to be wed to Lord Stannis Baratheon’s cold son, Jon did not show up at court, to the delight of the court rumormongers. Later, when Aegon confronted him about it in a mad fury, Jon had simply walked out of the room as his brother raged, but not before stunning him into silence with a simple, uttered line,

 

“Another King’s brother rose up for the first Daenerys as well.”

 

**IV**

 

The North had rallied behind the only son of their winter rose, and so had many of Jon’s friends at court, along with many other lords, great and small across the realm. While Aegon was the son of the a universally loved king, his alliance and offering of Daenerys to the Baratheon rebels had enraged many of the conservative lords in the realm, even the staunch and steadfast Jon Connington, who Jon now counted as his own banners. In the waning days of summer, they had rallied together at Summerhall, and now were marching to the Stormlands, where Aegon’s own stormlords were mustering by the tens of thousands.

 

_Winter is coming, brother._

 

**V**

 

When Jon’s lancers shattered the unprepared pikemen of the loyalist army, and his van, flying his white dragon upon black, had devastated the archers, the Stormlords had fled by the thousands, the painful memories of another absolute defeat in the cold waters of the Trident some five-and-thirty years prior rushing through the memories of the knights, soldiers and lords old enough to remember.

 

As the Northmen under his cousin Robb cheered by his side, he saw a knight clad completely in black plate-mail, bearing a crimson roaring three-headed dragon on the helm, and rubies in the chestplate ride hard to his position. To the sides of the riders were seven knights, clad in white, forming a diamond formation. They cut through Jon’s front lines with ease, and Jon saw the movement for what it was before any around him realized. A challenge. Drawing his personal blade, composed of a half-castle-forged steel half-Valyrian steel alloy his father had gifted to both him and the brother he once loved in what seemed like a lifetime ago, he called for his own small guard, and rallying behind him with a great battle cry, they charged.

 

**VI**

 

As the blades of the two kings met in an otherwise unimportant field in an unimportant fief, the song of steel fluttered through the morning air, it’s metallic melody echoing throughout the plains for all to hear.

 

“ _Why, Jon?”_ he heard his opponent scream out at him. _“I loved you!”_

 

To his side, Jon saw one of the Aegon’s Dornish knights fall to the axe of one of Robb’s northern clansmen. He parried another blow, before replying simply.

 

“I loved _her_ ,”

 

**VII**

 

Seven. Seven gods. Seven kingdoms. Seven knights who fell that day, three Kingsguard and four of Jon’s own northern knights, who were too slow, or too careless in the whirlwind of blades, and fell to the ground in a heap of their own blood, before the duel was finally over. There was no great final blow, no valiant last stand. There was only treachery.

 

Jon saw the betrayal happen in a series of slow movements. The stormlords behind Aegon rallying to form a single line, moving their archers forward and loosing a downpour of arrows which rained death upon the ranks of the king they had sworn their swords to. He screamed out a warning to Aegon, for he was still the brother he chose and the brother he loved, but it was far too late. The only thing he could do was dismount his dying horse, and hold his brother in his arms as the life ebbed away from him.

 

The rain began to pour as the battle lines disintegrated, as if the heavens were mourning alongside Jon for the brother he had never wanted to betray.

  


**Author's Note:**

> This is my first short story, and I just wanted to test my writing skills.
> 
> Constructive criticism is much appreciated.


End file.
